


vignettes

by gladheonsleeps



Series: Across the Galaxies on the Back of the Goddess of War [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Vignettes, finding their way back together, post trauma Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 19:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6820486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladheonsleeps/pseuds/gladheonsleeps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few moments capturing Loki as he and Sif try to figure out how to come back together.</p><p>Part of this is NSFW.</p>
            </blockquote>





	vignettes

**Author's Note:**

> Hello kittens. I've been so unwell that writing hasn't been easy but I really miss this story. Here are a few seperate vignettes that are only Loki and Sif I had sitting, waiting for their turn. As I haven't written anymore plotty stuff and I don't know if I'll ever 'finish' this story I thought I'd upload them tonight as I really like them and I don't know, this 'verse means a lot to me. 
> 
> I suppose in a way I'm feeling like this because in the Thrall 'verse these two are so anti, and in this one they are so sweet. you know I'm a sucker for sweetness y'all.
> 
> So anyway, here you go. some of this is NSFW ;)

Loki was pacing in his lounge room for quite some time before he realised what he was doing. There was a time when he didn’t much care what the Avengers did with themselves, just so long as it was away from him. In his more malicious moments he even found himself rooting for the other team, whichever villain or organisation they were up against. It wasn’t even the fact that Sif was with them. For all she was supposedly on Midgard to protect her Prince she had been too long without a decent fight and so had started helping the Avengers with local matters. No, slowly, Loki had come to care for these mortals. Tony had become a diverting conversationalist and chess opponent, Bruce and he had taken up meditating and forms on the rooftop at sunrise. Natasha and he verbally sparred often, but only because they enjoyed it, and had a mutual understanding of one another’s character, more than any malice. Clint and he had come to a peaceful understanding after Hogan’s surprising act of mediation, enjoying silent target practice with arrows and knives. And Steve, the boy Jormungand had taken into his bed was worming his way into Loki’s heart as fast as he was into his family -Though perhaps that was less surprising. Loki had always been different and more open when it came to family, for all his relationships were strained with his father and brother; he loved his children with everything he had. Idly he wondered how differently things would have gone on Midgard if his children hadn’t been present. He probably would have escaped shortly after waking up. Instead, he was here, ensconced in this plush tower of Stark’s worrying over the warriors as they fought honourably for the good of the people. He grimaced at the thought.

 

Blast, if Sif found him like this she would roast him. He forced himself to sit down and picked up the instrument that Darcy had lent him, this guitar. He pulled out the sheet music she had printed out for him. He had learned the theory of music on Midgard quite easily, and whilst he found it to be a calming activity, it was mentally stimulating enough to keep him interested. He dutifully made sure the instrument was tuned, and then set about picking a tune. Before long he was singing, and found himself relaxing, his mind and fingers occupied.  Suddenly wishing for the piano instead, Loki put down Darcy’s guitar and wandered out to the common area to see if it was deserted. Satisfied that he was alone, Loki opened the grand piano and arranged his sheet music, getting lost in song until JARVIS politely alerted him to the warriors' imminent arrival.

 

...................

 

Loki looked up from where he was translating a work of Shakespeare into runic characters to see Sif leaning upon his doorframe. He had no idea why the spirit of the tower kept letting Sif in but he didn’t really want it to stop either. She drooped slightly with exhaustion, covered in dust and blood. He put down his quill, avoiding spilling any excess ink. It was a while before Loki realised she was waiting for his welcome. He stood, not taking his eyes off of her, and moved over to the doorway and took her leather bound wrist, pulling her inside and closing the door. Once he had her inside his hand moved to the ties of her vembrance, his eyes seeking hers for permission. She nodded, and he gently started removing the pieces of her armour. It had, of course, changed over the millennia since he had last set about such a task, but he was well familiar with the craft of the royal armourers and made quick work of it. He manoeuvred her over to the couch and she sat heavily, while he knelt and worked on her leg plates and then her boots. Once she was in her tunic and stockings only, he moved to the kitchen and poured her some water to drink as well as some wine, then he disappeared into his bathroom, running a hot bath for her. When it was ready, he moved back into his living room and pulled her up again. Her eyes never left his as he led her into his bath chamber. He was about to leave her to herself when she grabbed his wrist, firmly preventing his exit. He looked down at their hands, hers covered in the blood of her vanquished enemies, his pale and ink stained, just as they had been so many times before, almost like nothing had changed in the last thousand years.

 

He sighed. But things had changed. His eyes flicked to Sif’s face, where he saw desire written, plainly communicating what she wanted from the prince. They both stood there for who knew how long, Sif asking and Loki weighing up his decision.  He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t fantasised about this, his Goddess of War taking him after battle just like she used to. But he knew that if he was hesitating, then he wasn’t yet ready, didn’t feel whole enough to be what she needed. Eventually he stepped up to her and placed a lingering kiss on her temple. She smelt like sweat, blood and her favourite weapon cleaner and he wanted to stay, to strip her bare and make love to her, let her ravage him like she always had after battle. He held himself aloof still. Her grip on his wrist weakened as he stepped back, out of the room and left her to bathe on her own. He leaned on the closed door and stared out the window of his bedchamber, wondering what was wrong with him that he could reject the most gloriously beautiful creature alive so many times, and hoping that he would work out what he needed to before she grew tired of asking and went elsewhere.

 

Eventually he brought himself back to the present and moved to order food brought up to his quarters for his lady. Even if he couldn’t give her what she wished there were at least some appetites he could fulfil for her.

 

...

 

“You know, you used to try and seduce me.” Sif’s voice was hoarse, as it sometimes was after battle. She stood in his doorway, still holding her shield. She felt Loki’s eyes travel over her, taking in every injury and scrape. Every mark her enemies had made before she got to them. Finally he met her eyes, and she saw fear he rarely allowed anyone to see.

 

He swallowed. “I’m afraid that when I reach to touch you that my hand will pass right through you, that this is all a dream. You kiss me and... The pressure inside my head it- How do I know this isn’t all a ploy by Thanos? Something so desirous, so _perfect_ as my children around me and you...” he looked up at her, eyes pleading. “If it is still just a dream then I want it to last. Do you understand?”

 

Sif did not speak for a time, taking in what he said, turning it over in her head. She realised she would have to make it so that he could not have made it up. Or maybe, for now, she might act like a dream after all, until he felt like he could manage to touch her without fear. Sif craved his body like she craved food and drink, but she wanted Loki to feel good even more. She wanted him to know why she traveled across galaxies for him, why she stood over his sickbed guarding him. It took her a long time to admit it, but she had since realised it was not all for politics. She slowly moved out of the doorway and closed the door firmly. “If this was a dream, what would I do, hmmm?”

 

Loki swallowed, but stayed silent, his eyes never leaving her. He sat ramrod straight in his bed, hands worrying at the covers. Sif sighed, and dropped her shield, moving to the end of the bed. She bit her lip, and started working on her armour, taking each piece off, and placing it on the floor. Loki didn’t speak, just watched her like a man starved. After her armour, she removed her leggings, and Loki’s eyebrows came together. Sif longed to rub the worry away but she stayed on, pulling off her tunic, so that she stood before him in only her underwear. It was black and lacy, not the most practical for fighting in but she’d had little time to change before the urgent call for help they're received earlier in the day and she’d kept on what she was already wearing. It payed off, apparently, by the look on Loki’s face.

 

“Tell me,” she said softly, tugging at a thin bra strap. “In your dreams, would I be wearing _this_?” Loki didn’t answer, but she could see him processing the information. She decided to carry on with her original plan and climbed onto the large bed on her knees, stopping just out of reaching distance in front of the prince. She saw his nostrils flair as he inhaled her sweat and blood and dirt. He licked his lip and she smiled, and touched her right breast, cupping it through the delicate lace. She then moved her hands over her sore body, down, then up, pausing to untie her hair and shake it out. Loki swallowed again. Sif continued on, playing with her nipples, then opening her legs so that Loki could see as she moved her left hand down to her hidden place, and touched herself. She heard him utter a choked sound and she looked him in the eye as she stroked, allowing herself to groan and arch, starting to ride her own fingers as he watched her bring herself off under her knickers. If she was honest with herself, she had thought that he would have joined her by now, but she just continued until she reached her peak, loudly. Finally she sat back on her haunches, holding eye contact as she caught her breath. Then she leaned forward, holding her fingers out to the prince. He stared at her fingers, glistening with her juices, and then back at her, his eyes all but black with arousal, but still holding an expression of unbelief. Finally, finally, he leaned in and took them into his mouth, moaning at the taste,. his clever tongue made sure to take it all. Sif closed her eyes, willing herself not to throw herself at him. Loki finally pulled off of her fingers, kissing her knuckles before moving forward, pushing her back on the bed gently and covering her, hands on either side of her head, holding his body off of hers. Sif held still, allowing him to nuzzle her neck, inhaling the very real scent of battle on her skin, nibbling.  She ran her hands up his sides, hands bunching in his soft tunic as he bit her neck lightly. “Loki” she whispered, he groaned again. Slowly, slowly he moved over her body, licking and biting her breasts through her lacy brassier and moving lower, lower, finally pulling her underwear off. He moved back off, kissing her legs before taking one of her thighs and placing it over his shoulder before finally kissing her where she had been craving him. He moaned again as he licked and sucked, not teasing at all but still taking his time, enjoying a feast he hadn’t partaken of in centuries. Sif closed her eyes. _Oh,_ how she had missed his silver tongue.


End file.
